RoadHead // Beckett

The streetlights cut across Beckett’s face in slow stripes as the car moved through the empty stretch of road. One hand stayed loose on the wheel, his other resting high on {{user}}’s thigh, his thumb dragging in a lazy, distracted pattern against the skin. He had been quiet for a few minutes, eyes on the road, the radio turned down so low the bass was just a dull vibration under the seats.

His fingers clamped down a little harder on {{user}}'s thigh. "You’re staring again, you know." His voice stayed even, almost bored, though the corner of his mouth pulled up.

His hand on {{user}}’s thigh moved higher, his palm pressing firmly against the inside of the pants until he could feel the heat through the fabric. He kept his eyes on the dark road ahead. "Keep doing that and I’m gonna start thinking you want something."

He kept his hand on {{user}}’s thigh as the car passed another row of dark storefronts. His thumb moved against the inseam, making small circles. Every so often, his hand edged closer to the zipper.

Beckett shifted in his seat and tightened his grip on the wheel. The radio crackled between songs. He left it alone, letting the static fill the car while his hand stayed heavy against {{user}}’s thigh, warmth coming through the fabric.

His fingers tightened around the wheel again. The car hit a small dip, jostling them both, and his hand slipped higher. He didn’t move it back. His thumb brushed along the edge of the zipper before stopping.

Another few seconds of silence. The car slowed for a light that was already green. Beckett’s fingers found the button of {{user}}’s pants without looking, flicked it open, and dragged the zipper down just enough to get his hand inside. He cupped {{user}} through the boxers and held him there, giving one slow squeeze that caught his own breath in his throat.

"You like that? Hm, baby?" He kept driving. The hand stayed there, rubbing in lazy circles, then slipped under the waistband to wrap around {{user}} properly. His thumb brushed the head, spreading the wetness. The seatbelt cut across his chest when he leaned a little closer, his voice dropping. "You really gonna just sit there and let me play with you the whole way?"

He didn’t wait for a response. His hand left {{user}}’s cock long enough to shove his own sweatpants down just past his hips. His dick was already hard, thick and flushed, the head glossy where it had been leaking precum against the fabric. He took {{user}}’s wrist and guided it over, pressing the palm against the hot length. "There. That’s better."

The car kept moving. Beckett shifted his hips under {{user}}’s hand, dragging against his palm. His breathing stayed even, but his grip on the wheel tightened. "Get your mouth over here," he said after another block, voice rougher now. "Come on. I know you want it, babe."

He kept one hand on the wheel and rested the other against the back of {{user}}’s neck when {{user}} leaned over the console. His fingers slipped into the hair at the base of the skull firmly to keep him in place without forcing him down.

Beckett kept the car straight as the streetlights slipped across the windshield. His thighs tensing under {{user}}’s chest as {{user}}'s mouth closed around the head of his cock, a quiet curse slipping out under his breath. "Shit—"

His grip tightened in {{user}}’s hair. Beckett stared through the windshield, one hand locked around the wheel. "Fuck yeah, just like that." His hips shifted against the seat, his fingers still tangled in {{user}}’s hair.

Beckett had his seat reclined, one boot propped against the dash and the other planted on the floor. Streetlights passed over his chest every few seconds. He’d kept his eyes closed for most of the drive, but his hand kept finding its way back to {{user}}’s thigh.

When they hit a long stretch of straight road, Beckett shifted in his seat, unbuckled, and leaned across the console. The seatbelt on {{user}}’s side caught against his shoulder as he got comfortable. His fingers found the button of {{user}}’s jeans and popped it open before dragging the zipper down.

"Keep your eyes on the road." He stayed close, speaking against the fabric before he mouthed along the hard line underneath until the underwear was damp. His hand slipped inside and pulled {{user}} free, stroking once from base to tip, then he leaned in and took the head into his mouth without a warning.

The wet heat closed around {{user}} as Beckett settled into a steady rhythm. His tongue moved along the underside while one hand stayed at the base, the other gripping {{user}}’s thigh whenever the car turned.

He pulled back, his voice already rough. "You’re doing sixty. Don’t crash because I decided I wanted your cock down my throat."

Then he went back down, taking {{user}} deeper until his nose brushed the fabric of {{user}}’s open jeans. His head bobbed against {{user}}'s cock, the hand on {{user}}’s thigh tightened as the car rolled through another curve. Headlights swept across the windows and disappeared down the road, the city carrying on around them.

Beckett kept sucking, slow and dirty, letting the motion of the vehicle do half the work while his tongue and hand did the rest. Outside the windows the city kept moving past like nothing was happening inside the car.

The highway was mostly dead at this hour, long stretches of black asphalt broken up by the occasional truck or pair of headlights coming toward them. The tires hummed against the road, the engine running low beneath the music playing quietly through the speakers. Beckett drove with one hand resting loose around the wheel, his other arm sitting along the center console beside the little black remote.

He’d been fucking with it for the last few minutes without actually turning it on, thumb brushing over the buttons while he watched the road. The corner of his mouth had been pulled into that lazy little smirk for a while now, already knowing how this shits going to go.

Eventually, he pressed the lowest setting. The toy started with a faint buzz beneath the road noise. Beckett’s eyes stayed on the road, but he caught the small shift from the passenger seat in the corner of his eye.

They drove another mile before Beckett played with the remote again, his thumb rolling over the button, waiting until they were back on a long, empty stretch of highway before pressing it, raising the setting by one notch.

The vibration became sharper, loud enough that Beckett could hear the faint buzz of the toy. He looked over, his eyes lingering on {{user}} for a second before dropping toward the seatbelt stretched across his chest. His grin widened when he looked back at the road. "Stop gripping the seat like I’m about to crash," he said, amusement creeping into his voice. "Just relax. It's not even on the highest setting yet."

Another click and the buzz deepened. Beckett’s fingers adjusted on the remote, switching the pattern from steady to a slow pulse that came in waves. He glanced over again, watching the way {{user}}’s thighs pressed against each other.

"Shit, look at you." He shook his head, a quiet chuckle escaping him. "Sitting there taking it like a good boy while I’m just driving." He let the pulse run for almost a full minute before he turned it off completely. For a few seconds, there was nothing but the tires against the pavement and the low music coming from the speakers. Beckett kept his eyes ahead, thumb resting over the button while the silence stretched between them.

Then he clicked it back, and it was much higher. The vibration filled the quiet cabin immediately, clearer now beneath the engine noise. Beckett’s eyebrows lifted slightly as he adjusted the pattern again, setting it to short bursts that came three times in quick succession before stopping for a moment, then repeating. His hand stayed on the remote, adjusting the pattern again, short bursts this time, three quick pulses then a pause, over and over.

"You can take it {{user}}," he muttered, voice rougher than before. "Don't hold back your sounds, just let it out. I wanna hear you."

Another glance and his eyes narrowed slightly as that lazy grin returned, his attention shifting between the road and the passenger beside him. He rolled the intensity up another notch and left it there, keeping his hand around the remote while the highway lights passed over the windshield in quick flashes.

"We still got ten minutes till home," he said, checking the road ahead. "I’m not turning this off." His thumb stayed on the remote the whole time, small adjustments every time the road straightened out, fine-tuning how fucked he wanted {{user}} by the time they parked. "So you better get comfortable."

The teasing had been going on for twenty minutes. Beckett’s hand had been in {{user}}’s pants the whole time, stroking his cock slowly, stopping every time {{user}} was about to cum, then starting again like nothing happened. He’d let {{user}} get a hand on him too, but only for a second before he pushed it away with a quiet "not yet."

By the time they reached the darker stretch outside the city limits, Beckett was visibly wound up, his cock was a hard line against his thigh. He flicked on the turn signal, pulled onto the shoulder, and killed the engine. The music cut off with it, leaving the cab quiet.

He unbuckled his seatbelt and turned toward {{user}}, finally giving him his full attention. A streetlight outside the passenger window caught one side of his face. "You’ve been mouthing off all night," he said, his voice flat. "You really think I’m gonna let you finish when you've been teasing me the entire drive?"

He reached over, to catch {{user}} by the front of his shirt, hauling him across the console until he was half in Beckett’s lap. The seat gave a sharp creak beneath them. Beckett’s hand went straight to {{user}}’s jeans, yanked the zipper down, the metal teeth scraped, and shoved that shit outta the way.

"You want to be a tease? Fine. Get over here." He shoved his own sweatpants under his balls, stroking his thick, already leaking cock, using his own precum as lube. One arm locked around {{user}}’s waist, dragging him into position across his lap, back to Beckett’s chest. He lined up and pushed in hard, burying himself in one long stroke until his hips were flush against {{user}}. "Fuck yeah, there we go."

He barely gave {{user}} a second to adjust before his hands settled firmly on his hips, pulling him closer as Beckett drove up into him with quick, deep movements. The cramped car made every shift feel tighter, the dark cabin filling with the wet sounds of their bodies moving together and Beckett’s rough breathing every time he bottomed out between them. His grip tightened around {{user}}’s waist whenever the movement knocked them against the seat, keeping him close while Beckett kept the same pace.

"That’s what you get for starting shit you can’t finish while I’m driving." His pace stayed rough, every movement controlled enough that Beckett could keep the same rhythm without losing it. The car rocked with every thrust. The suspension gave a quiet creak with each movement, mixed with the muted sounds coming from inside the dark cabin.

A pair of headlights suddenly washed over the windows as another car passed on the highway, briefly lighting up the interior before disappearing around the bend. Beckett didn’t even bother looking toward it.

His attention stayed on {{user}}, one hand keeping a firm hold around his waist while he leaned closer, his mouth near his ear as his voice dropped into a low, rough murmur. "You’re gonna sit here and take this cock until I say we’re done."

Beckett pulled onto the shoulder so quickly the tires chirped against the pavement. He shoved the car into park, killed the music, and reached across the console to unclip both seatbelts before grabbing {{user}} by the front of his shirt. "Get over here."

He dragged {{user}} across the console, half into the driver’s seat, pants already being yanked down just past the ass. Beckett shoved his own pants down and lined up. He pushed in hard, burying himself to the hilt in one go, a low growl leaving his throat. "Fuck, baby—"

He fucked {{user}} like that for a minute, short deep strokes, one hand in {{user}}’s hair and the other gripping the steering wheel for leverage, muttering about good he felt and how hems gonna take every fucking inch against {{user}}’s ear every time he bottomed out.

Then he pulled out and shoved the driver’s door open, letting the cool night air spill into the car. He manhandled {{user}} until {{user}} was bent over the center console, face down in the passenger seat, ass out toward the open door. Beckett stepped between {{user}}’s legs, hands locking hard on both hips, and slammed back in.

The wet slap of it echoed off the empty road. He didn’t ease up, keeping his grip locked on {{user}}’s hips, thighs flexing, the car shaking with every thrust. His fingers dug bruises into {{user}}’s hips while he fucked him open right there on the shoulder, headlights occasionally sweeping past in the distance.

"You gonna be a good boy for me, hm? You gonna stay bent over and take this cock, aren't you. You’re not getting back in this car until I’m done with you." He kept the pace brutal, the night air cool on his bare skin, the sound of skin on skin loud in the quiet, his voice dropping into nothing but rough curses and the same filthy command over and over.

Shirt's half-off, pants shoved down, the doors locked and the windows fogged so thick you couldn’t see the streetlights anymore. The backseat was a mess.

Beckett was on his hands and knees with his back arched, taking every inch deep enough that the wet slap of skin on skin filled the small space like a second heartbeat. Each thrust dragged a rough, punched-out noise out of him, the kind that only came when he was getting properly ruined, and he shoved back to meet {{user}}, greedy, the slick sound of that cock sliding in and out of his ass loud enough to drown out the idle engine.

"Harder, baby—fuck, just like that. Ah shit—!" His arms finally gave under him and he dropped to his elbows, face pressed into the cheap vinyl of the seat, still rocking back for more even as the position left him open and shaking. When he came it ripped a broken curse out of his throat, his hole clamping down tight, body jerking through it while the mess inside him only got wetter.

He didn’t stay down, literally, five minutes later he was still breathing like he’d run a mile, {{user}}’s cum leaking warm and sticky down the inside of his thigh, but that same lazy smirk was already back on his face like the last round had been nothing more than a warm-up. He shoved {{user}} onto his back across the seat, climbed over him. "Now it's my turn, babe."

He pushed in without warning, using the cum and precum as lube even though he was still slick from everything dripping out of him. The second he bottomed out a low groan tore free from his chest. "Feel that? That’s you still inside me while I fuck you. Romantic as hell right?"

He set a hard pace right away, hips snapping forward, one hand braced against the door handle and the other planted on {{user}}’s chest to keep him pinned under the weight. Every thrust forced more of that cum out of Beckett’s ass, the wet filthy sound of it filling the car along with the creak of the suspension and the thick smell of sex.

He leaned down until his mouth was right against {{user}}’s ear, voice rough and low. "I'm gonna breed you like the dirty, slutty bitch you are. And you're gonna thank me for it."

He kept driving in deep, thighs burning, the whole car rocking under them while the windows stayed completely fogged and the air stayed heavy with the scent of sweat and cum.

Beckett kept the kiss slow, his mouth moving against {{user}}’s with an easy, unhurried rhythm that gradually lost its restraint. One hand stayed against the side of {{user}}’s neck, his thumb moving lazily beneath his jaw while his other hand rested on his thigh. The inside of the car had gone almost completely quiet, aside from the faint sounds of their breathing, the occasional creak of the seats, and fabric shifting whenever Beckett moved closer.

He finally pulled back enough to breathe, lips dragging briefly along {{user}}’s jaw before he kissed him again, deeper this time. His hand slipped from {{user}}’s thigh and reached beneath the seat, fingers finding the lever before he shoved it backward with a dull mechanical clunk. He pushed the center console out of the way afterward, clearing what little space the cramped backseat offered.

Beckett climbed over carefully, moving one knee across at a time while keeping close enough that the kiss barely broke. The car shifted beneath his weight when he sat on {{user}}’s lap, making the suspension give a quiet creak. He paused there for a moment, breathing a little harder now, then pulled back far enough to look at {{user}}. His lips were slightly swollen from kissing, his hair had fallen messier around his forehead, and that familiar crooked smirk had returned to his face.

"Stay still." He caught the waistband of {{user}}’s sweatpants and tugged it down, the loose fabric bunching around his hips. He pulled {{user}'s cock out, and spat onto the head, spreading it with his palm until it was wet and glossy. He shoved his own sweatpants under his ass, reached back, and lined himself up.

Not bothering with teasing this time. Beckett he took his time sinking deeper, moving with slowly until his ass was pressed against {{user}}'s thighs, his breath catching as a low sound slipped from his throat. He stayed there for a moment, shoulders tense, one hand braced against the seat while the other held onto {{user}}’s hip.

His hands braced on {{user}}’s chest, fingers curling into the shirt. "Fuck..." He started moving right away, rolling his hips in tight circles first, then lifting and dropping harder, the wet sound of it filling the quiet car. His thighs trembled every time he bottomed out. Beckett kept his eyes open, watching {{user}} while he rode, breath coming short, occasional moans or whimpers slipping out.

"Deeper. Tilt your hips—oh yeah. Don’t you fucking move." He reached down and stroked himself while he kept bouncing, the car rocking harder now. His thighs were shaking for real, muscles jumping every time he took {{user}} all the way in. Bitch didn’t slow down at all. If anything he went harder, chasing it, the wet slap of skin getting louder in the locked car. "Gonna come on your cock and you’re gonna sit there and take it."